


i'll be the one, if you want me to

by sebbykurt



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst galore, M/M, Rickyl, ayyy happy new years, boo ya, but it has a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebbykurt/pseuds/sebbykurt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick adjusts Daryl’s tie, tugging skillfully on the sloppy knot.  “You’re eighteen years old, Dixon.  I woulda thought you’d know how to tie a damned tie.”  <br/>Daryl smiles.  He still likes the way bitter curses sound so sweet on Rick’s tongue.  “Shut the hell up, Friendly.” High School AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be the one, if you want me to

**Author's Note:**

> so basically i've had this idea rattling around in my brain for quite some time, and i finally got around to writing it over break! it's not as great as i had planned but, hey, any rickyl is good rickyl! enjoy~

When Rick Grimes comes to town, there’s a _list_ of people drooling over him.  Girls.  Boys.  Parents.  Teachers.  Coaches.  All a bunch of nobodies with sticks shoved miles up their asses and expectations too high to ever touch with even the tips of their fingers. 

Daryl Dixon, on the other hand, wants to tear him apart.

From the moment Rick walks into his new school, hair freshly cut and clothes recently freed of their tags, Daryl wants to bite into him so hard that he tastes blood. 

He doesn’t care about the boy’s spotless record.  Fuck good grades and community service.  Screw the smiles that are both shy and excited.  To hell with the country-boy image that stinks up every classroom he sits in.

Daryl wants to _ravage_ him. 

Kiss him until he’s soft and then bruise him with lips and tongue and teeth.  Imprint his entire being across the newbie’s pure little body; _stain the stainless_.

And of course Rick joins the football team, teaches every other thick-headed jock a thing or two about the balance between popularity and kindness.  His name follows him through the hallways, a giggled whisper or a respectful shout.  Daryl watches him walk and hates the way his cheeks flush with embarrassed gratitude, almost like he’s _too good_ for it all.

And fuck, he probably is.

Michonne laughs at the way Daryl watches him, punching him playfully and rambling on and on about his pointless crush on the new kid.  (Despite every attempt to convince her that it’s quite the opposite of a boyish affection, she still insists.)  “It isn’t good, seeing you like this,” she teases, although with a bit of seriousness that she tries her best to hide.  “It isn’t good at all.”

But Daryl doesn’t care, because Rick likes to hug pretty girls and walks away smelling like perfume, and Daryl wants him walking away from _him_ , smelling like sex and heat and _wonder_.

Maybe even a little disappointment.

Xxx

“Got a smoke?” Daryl asks, sliding up behind Rick Grimes’ body with a practiced ease. 

School got out two hours ago and football practice ended fifteen minutes ago, and of course Rick had to come grab his books from his locker because he actually cares about homework and studying and _grades_ , for fuck’s sake. 

Daryl knows that Rick doesn’t smoke, would smell it on him if he did, and he guesses that’s what makes the thing so much better.

Rick turns around with surprise and a little shock, and Daryl uses it against him.

Pins him against the cold metal and slams their mouths together like a black and blue mark.  Presses his wrists hard against the unforgiving substance, doesn’t let him squirm away.  Doesn’t even let him try.

Daryl likes motorcycles and cheap cigarettes.  Rick likes textbooks and football.

Regardless, he kisses back like there’s nothing different at all between them.

Xxx

Daryl doesn’t have a car to screw around in, so they use Rick’s instead.

Rick laughs the first time Daryl ever drags him into the backseat, mumbling something about over eagerness against the older boy’s mouth.  “Is this how you always woo your potential boyfriends?”

Daryl tries not to linger on that last word.  Doesn’t like the way it sounds on Rick’s mouth, not when he’s talking about the two of them.  So he kisses it away, chases the taste of it off of both of their tongues.

(Can’t have Rick holding on to any promises he can’t keep.)

Rick isn’t the most experienced kisser, being sixteen and a pretty obvious virgin, but Daryl teaches him all the tricks.   Until Rick is taking over and pushing Daryl against the leather of the car seat, making them both shiver in an undeniable sort of longing that Daryl wishes he could rip apart with his bare hands.

Common knowledge ends up being that Rick likes when Daryl sucks hard on his bottom lip, so Daryl makes it into a sort of weapon, pulling it out whenever Rick wants to talk about the weather or Mr. Haney’s offensive language in Pre-Calculus that day.

There’s no time for it.  Daryl won’t _let_ there be time for it.

It’s with distance that Daryl gets to know the other boy.  He learns by watching him walk that Rick has a bit of a confidence issue.  With the way he’s constantly shaving and showing up with trimmed hair, Daryl knows that he has a lot of problems with his physical appearance.  For absolutely no reason.  On multiple occasions Daryl has openly admitted his attraction to Rick, mouthing the words hot and heavy against the younger boy’s neck.

In class, Rick is always the first to raise his hand, but gets the answers wrong a lot more than he’s willing to admit.  An intelligent boy who enjoys showing off, only to have it all catch up to him in the end.  He’s constantly talking to the school security guard, questioning the mechanics of police work and laughing off the awkward pauses that come with the knowledge that, well, security guards and county sheriffs are two completely different occupations.

He shows no interest in any other girls or boys, although Daryl can blame that mostly on the fact that he’s almost constantly dragging Rick back to his car after practice, sucking bruises across his collarbone with a fine tuned finesse.

“Stop it,” Rick will pant, despite the way his hands push Daryl back down.  “You’ll leave them where people can _see_.”

“ _Hmm_ ,” Daryl hums, because he knows through Rick’s body language that he really doesn’t care all that much.  “Wear a scarf.”  He licks over one of the bruises.  “Or a turtleneck.  Either way, you won’t really be hiding the fact that you’re a little fruity.”

And even though it’s meant to be a joke, Rick will roll his eyes and shove away, reversing their positions with a sort of cold eagerness.  He won’t’ say anything about it, and Daryl won’t bring it up, but he knows he’s getting to the police-wannabe, and that makes something hot and funny worm its way through his previously inactive conscience.

He brushes it off with a mental _Who The Fuck Cares, This Is What You Wanted,_ but that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the quietly pained looks that Rick sometimes shoots him in the halls at school, when they’re supposed to walk past each other without any sort of acknowledgement.

“That poor boy,” Michonne mumbles, shaking her head as she grabs a lighter from her back pocket and watches Rick meet up with Shane Walsh and his goonies.  “Looks like you’re killing him.”  She smiles and claps him on the back.  “Good work, Dixon.”

When Daryl smiles and accepts her congratulations, a small part of him winces.  Because he _likes_ hurting Rick like he does.

Lives for it, in fact.

Xxx

Rick’s room is small and simple.  A nightstand topped with a framed scrap of cowboy wallpaper, settled beside a family photo.  Piles of clothes folded but not put away.  Books tipped over on the shelf.

_Catcher in the Rye.  Of Mice and Men.  The Bible._

It’s here that Rick kisses him soft and fragile, like he’ll break if they try anything even a little bit trickier.  For no reason at all, this pisses Daryl off, and somehow they end up shirtless on Rick’s bed, panting hard into each other’s mouths.

“You don’t have an ‘off’ button, do you?”  Rick asks dumb questions like this all the time, even though _he_ sure as hell isn’t trying to stop it, either. 

“Don’t act like you’re complaining, Officer Friendly.”  Part of Daryl uses the nickname like an atomic bomb.  An act of mockery towards Rick Grimes’ hopes and dreams.  Part of him just uses it because it makes Rick smile against his mouth.

He slips a hand around Rick’s waist, nodding his head when the younger quietly reminds him of their agreement not to travel any lower. 

“I’ve got you,” Daryl promises him, because even though he’s torn between kissing and ripping, he still wants to make sure Rick _wants_ whatever he’s about to give.  Daryl Dixon may be a low-down, no-good, redneck with the bruises to prove the sort of family he comes from, but he’ll never pressure anybody to do anything they aren’t ready to.

Especially not someone like Rick Grimes, whose damn innocence tastes like vanilla ice cream across Daryl’s teeth.

Rick traces the scars on his back but never asks where they come from, although the question is almost always burning in his eyes like a fucking forest fire.  He’s seen Daryl’s brother around town, picking up milk or flirting with girls on the street, and he knows from the bloody marks all over him that Daryl isn’t the one getting the worst of it.  Hasn’t been for a while, at least.

Daryl rewards his silence with friction, pure and effective.  Their tongues collide in a desperate attempt to keep quiet, because Rick’s mama has dinner on the table and _fuck_ , Rick still calls his mother mama when he isn’t paying attention.  (Which is flattering, if Daryl really thinks about it.  It means Rick is comfortable enough not to have to protect himself.  It’s also a little scary.  Daryl wants to break him, not ruin him.)

They roll around a little, until finally Rick has his legs bracketed around Daryl’s hips.  The older boy has his hand pressed over Rick’s mouth, whispering amused warnings about silence and nosy mothers.

It doesn’t mean that he isn’t entitled to a little fun, however.  He grinds his hips upwards, angled just _right_.  “One day I’m gonna make you _scream_ , Grimes, don’tcha worry.”  Rick whimpers, head tipped back as Daryl grinds up against him.  “You look at me, Rick.  Look at me while I make you come.”

Another pathetic whimper, vibrating deliciously against the skin of Daryl’s hand.  It’s all he can do not to reverse their positions and fuck Rick into the mattress, but there’s still a matter of their jeans.  Besides, he promised Rick not to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, and he swears to a God that he doesn’t believe in that he’ll keep that promise for as long as Rick wants him to.

Hips rocking with a reckless fervor, Daryl opens his mouth to whisper Rick’s name like a dirty, sacred prayer.

And that’s all it takes.

Eyes slamming shut, Rick clamps down on his tongue to keep from outright shouting.  Daryl watches for as long as he can before tumbling over that sparkling edge, letting his jaw fall slack in a silent scream even as Rick collapses on top of him.

For at least ten minutes, they just lay there, chests heaving and legs entangled.  Daryl lights a cigarette despite Rick’s complaints, using the nicotine to clear his head.

He bets if he bit into Rick’s skin that there would be no complaint.  Just beads of blood that would taste like sweet metal on Daryl’s tongue.

Rick nuzzles against the crease between his neck and collarbone.  This becomes his new favorite position, one that Daryl refuses to say he’s grown fond of.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Friendly.  Never know when your mama’s gonna come runnin’ in with a rolling pin, threatening to kill all the gays.”

It’s neither a joke nor a threat, but Rick still laughs and swats playfully at Daryl’s arm. 

It hurts in a lot more ways that the physical sense.

They lay like that for a while, inhaling the smell of tar and sex.  Even though Daryl should be all used up, there’s still a pestering buzz at the back of his skull.  One that won’t go away until Rick Grimes has collapsed at his feet.  A shell of the man he was supposed to be.

Rick tells him about his old school, where he used to try so hard to be the good guy, only to have it all shoved back in his face.  “I was president of student council.  Had a real nice girlfriend.  But they all saw through it, I guess.  Spray painted ‘ _faggot_ ’ across my locker too many times to count.”

“Don’t use that word,” Daryl snaps, simultaneously chasing Rick away and pulling him closer.  He tightens his grip around the boy’s waist.  Scares him with the force of his voice.  “’Cause you ain’t one, and neither am I.”

The tension that had suddenly coiled in Rick’s muscles unwinds itself.  He kisses the underside of Daryl’s jaw.  “I know.  Besides, they won’t do that ‘round here.  People _like_ you, Daryl.”

This makes Daryl bitter again, but he bottles it up, refuses to scare the strong-willed baby bird chirping at his ear any more than he already has. 

He doesn’t tell Rick about the bruises that made his dad even angrier.  Doesn’t tell him about the way Merle would run screaming into the principal’s office when he was still in school.  Doesn’t mention the fact that he wasn’t always this confident, that he was about as spineless as they came before Merle sat him down and explained it all to him. 

He doesn’t say anything about it, because Rick is young enough to be balancing right at the cusp of strength and fragility.  If Daryl can help it, he’ll use his fists, teeth, nails – whatever it takes – to keep Rick safe

from everything and everyone but himself.

Xxx

Michonne throws her head back in laughter, nearly knocking over both her and Daryl’s beer glasses.  “Oh my God, you _idiot_!”

Torn between laughing and shouting, Daryl snorts and takes an eager sip of cheap alcohol.  “Shut the hell up.”

“Oh _no_.”  She leans forward on her shins and bops him on the nose, an action that would have gotten anybody else killed.  “God bless Rick Grimes, dragging the excitement out of this stupid town.” 

“I should’a never said nothin’.”

“Don’t say that.”  She pops the lid off another bottle.  “So, you think a goody-two-shoes, homework loving, rosy-cheeked farmer’s son like Rick Grimes is in love with you?  Wanna know a secret?  I think he’s been head-over-ass for you ever since the second he saw you.  It’s written all over his face.   Never seen anything like it.”  She watches for his reaction from the corner of her eye.

He closes his eyes and drops his head in his hands.  “I haven’t even _fucked_ him yet.  I can’t just back out _now_.”

Michonne has plenty of things to say to this, but she knows that at least ninety-percent of them will get her in a lot of trouble.  She might be Daryl’s only friend (besides Rick and occasionally Merle, she supposes) but that doesn’t mean he won’t shut her out if she doesn’t approach him like one would a rabid Rottweiler.

Instead of saying something she’ll regret, she sticks with “There’s more to life than sex, you know.”

Daryl’s laughter fills the room. 

“ _Good one_.  Now pass another beer before I decide I don’t need you anymore.”

Passing him a new bottle with an amused hum, she decides it’s best not to push the subject any further.

Either way, she knows both Daryl and Rick will wind up hurt, but she has a sneaking suspicion that it won’t last long before they’re both scrambling to pick up the careless mess they left behind.

Michonne has known Daryl since they were both greasy middle schoolers scrabbling for friendship, and she knows that underneath all his bad ass-ery there lays a fairly decent human being, with a heart the size of a fucking boulder. 

So, while Daryl rambles on about the best porn sites and how excited he is to finally get laid again, Michonne nods and hides a knowing smile behind the rim of her bottle.

Yeah, Daryl Dixon is truly, royally _fucked_.

Xxx

Rick finds a note folded up at the bottom of his locker.  Neatly folded.  Lipstick stain where a seal would be if they were still into the archaic method of melting wax over thick paper.  Pretty, curled handwriting.

_Rick,_

_You have amazing eyes and a laugh that I could lose myself in.  We hardly know each other, but when we talk, it’s like I’m drowning in your awesome intelligence.  And you’re so sweet and humble, even though you’re so amazing at everything you do._

_I really, really, really like you.  So do me a favor and meet me by my locker after school.  We can set up a real date if you’d like. ;)_

_-xo Lori_

_PS: I didn’t know what to write, so I had my friend write pretty much all of this.  I think she did it just to spite me, but I have nothing better to give you, and I really want to try something, so please consider.  We can catch a movie?  I promise I’m not like all the other girls._

Rick smiles as he reads.  Leans against his locker with a grin too big for his face.

Xxx

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 4:43 PM_ : can’t make it.  practice running late :(  next time tho

**To ‘Rick’ at 4:45 PM** : 2 bad I just saw the entire team leave the gym

**To ‘Rick’ at 4:45 PM** : what the fuck ever

**To ‘Rick’ at 4:46 PM** : I shoulda known u werent really into it, 2 straight for ur own good I guess

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 4:48 PM_ : daryl please don’t do this. I can’t help wanting to go out with someone who actually wants to be seen in public with me

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 5:00 PM_ : ok not the best way to tell you I’m on a date with someone else

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 5:01 PM_ : but its not a date not really. shes just a girl who likes me but I don’t think I like her back so we’re good ok?

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 5:10 PM_ : I don’t feel good about this already daryl please text me back tell me you aren’t mad

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 5:30 PM_ : are we still hooking up tomorrow after school?  please say yes

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 6:00 PM_ : I didn’t think we were exclusive can you blame me?

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 6:01 PM_ : you said we weren’t exclusive.  you made that very clear the first time we ever did anything together, so don’t go acting like a child just because you aren’t getting lucky tonight

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 6:03 PM_ : ok that was a little much but please just talk to me?  even just to yell at me that would be okay

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 7:29 PM_ : fine then screw you. I had a really nice time with a really pretty girl and maybe you’re right maybe I’m not gay maybe I was just confused and you weren’t helping so fine, whatever.  i—

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 7:29 PM_ : (continued) hope I never see you again and don’t you dare try to talk to me tomorrow because I won’t listen to a single word you say because ok maybe I was never really  alright with the whole ‘not exclusive’ thing

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 7:45 PM_ : oh god I’m so sorry what did I even just say

_To ‘Daryl Dixon:)’ at 1:16 AM_ :  goodnight daryl.  Or good morning I guess

Xxx

Lori is pretty, smart, and polite.  She blushes whenever someone compliments her but accepts the encouragement with pride.  Despite being on the cheerleading team with about a dozen of the school’s finest flirts, she keeps to herself and only shows interest in the boys that she’s _actually_ interested in. 

She and Shane Walsh are practically inseparable, although she has made it clear on multiple occasions (some of which occurred in very public places) that she was interested in nothing more than his friendship.

And when Rick Grimes came along, any doubts she might have had were easily erased.

Because Rick was everything she had ever wanted in a boyfriend.  

Even though she was pretty, smart, and polite, Lori knew how to get what she wanted.  She was strong just as she was attractive.  Cunning just as she was intelligent.  Brave just as she was bashful.

And _boy_ , did she want Rick Grimes to pin her up against a locker with a kiss and an offer to take her to junior prom with a promise to rent a nice hotel room afterwards.

Xxx

Daryl snags a bottle of Merle’s vodka, grabs his keys, and jumps out his bedroom window.  Although honestly, at this point he’s kind of hoping his dad will pick a fight.  Maybe this time he’ll fight back.

(He’d apologize for it later, of course.  Would take whatever punishment he had coming his way.)

Too stupid to drive drunk, he avoids cracking the bottle until he arrives at his destination.

The moment his feet hit pavement, however, he’s gulping down as much as he can without choking on the burn.

Spider James (whose real name is a mystery even to Daryl, who’s known him since they were both kids) has been Merle Dixon’s number one drug resource for the past four years.  Before that, they were merely acquaintances with equal interest in getting high and fucking virgin groupies, a therapeutic set of actions that Daryl soon found himself enjoying, too.

And now, as he’s always been, Spider is Daryl’s best chance to fuck Rick Grimes right out of his system.

Without even having to knock, Daryl is swept inside with a familiar smile and a firm smack on the ass.  “Ah, my sweet little Dixon, back for more, eh?”

Daryl shuts him up with a forceful kiss, keeping it strictly professional with too much teeth and not enough tongue.  The room smells like weed and Daryl is spilling alcohol all over the floor but none of that matters because _Rick went out on a date with Lori last night and he has to forget it if he wants to keep his sanity._

He and Spider are a mess of limbs on the couch, too frustrated to make the journey to the other man’s bedroom.  His tongue ring makes Daryl shiver. 

_Don’t think about the way Rick would pull you back and tell you to slow down, that stupid puppy dog look in his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose like some sort of **boyfriend** or something. Don’t think at all, really.  Get off and go home._

_Just like you’re used to._

He tries not to flinch when Spider finally yanks his pants down and pulls Daryl’s cock into his mouth with practiced ease, swallowing down memories of Rick’s tentative touches the first time he ever did this.  He’s getting head from a man who calls himself _Spider_ , for fuck’s sake.  Rick should be about as far from here as possible.

Except that he’s everywhere, so Daryl grabs Spider by his hair and shoves him down further, using his free hand to chug down even more of the acrid alcohol. 

They eventually get to fucking and Daryl pounds into the tinier man mindlessly, caring so very little for the way Spider winces when he first pushes in.  It’s been a while since Daryl has needed him for this.  Something that he never thought to be thankful for until right this very moment.

Spider is weak.  Doesn’t fight back.  Lets Daryl fuck him without a single word other than his name.  The occasional curse.  A promise to reciprocate it if he ever needs him.

Daryl comes before Spider gets the chance to.  There’s some whining before Daryl ducks down and finishes the other man off with his mouth. 

With no complaint from Spider, Daryl collapses on top of him, dropping the now-empty vodka bottle to the floor.  An echoing silence that makes Daryl feel sick to his stomach.

Spider plays with his hair.  It feels nice.  Feels like Rick.

Daryl hates himself a little more than he already did.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Spider whispers, pupils dilated with some unknown drug.  Despite it, however, his concern is genuine.  He’s always cared about Daryl.  Almost like the big brother Merle struggled to be, only with sex and alcohol involved.  “Daddy hurt you again?”

Daryl snorts.  “I wish.”

“Hmm.  Something worse than the scars, then?  A girl?  A _boy_?”

“ _Dammit_ , Spider…”

“You’re an open book, Dixon.  Right after sex, at least.  It’s kind of sad how much a good fuck can open you up.  Not literally, of course.  The opening up is _my_ job.”

Punching his friend’s arm, Daryl sits up on his elbows and looks down into dark blue eyes.  So much darker than Rick’s.  Not nearly anywhere as pretty.  “It’s a boy, alright?  Ditched me for some pretty little _thing_ on the cheerleadin’ squad.”

Spider nods like he understands.  Probably does, if the stories Merle’s told him are even a little bit true.  “Did you tell him how you felt?”

Daryl pulls back, shifting to his knees.  “Whadd’ya mean?  I don’t _feel_ nothin’ other than disappointment over the fact that I didn’t get another good lay—“

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.  I’m an openly gay drug dealer living in southern Georgia.  There isn’t nothin’ that can stop me from seeing straight through your pussy little lies.”

“Quit actin’ like you know me so well!”

With a heavy sigh, Spider pushes Daryl off of him and curls into a ball in the corner of the couch.  “You play the same lines over and over again, Dixon.  When are you gonna get sick of it, huh?  Deny it all you want, but you do have a heart that actually does _feel_ things sometimes.  You’re just too afraid to admit it.  But _maybe_ you finally started growing attached to someone?  _Maybe_ you were finally starting to fall a little bit in love with another human be—“

Before Spider can say anything else, Daryl punches him in the face.

Spider doesn’t fight back, of course.  He made a promise to Merle a long time ago never to fight back when Daryl lost himself in his own emotions.

“You. Stupid.  Son. Of.  A. _Bitch_.”

His chest is still heaving when Spider pulls him into his arms, squeezing the air out of his lungs as he breaks down in the other man’s embrace.

Xxx

_ Lori’s Pros: _

  1. _1._ _She is very pretty and incredibly smart_
  2. _2._ _She smells amazing_
  3. _3._ _She has a whole bunch of “Lori Grimes” doodles in her notebooks that she thinks I haven’t seen_
  4. _4._ _She’s adorable_
  5. _5._ _She has an amazing body_
  6. _6._ _She lets me look at her homework and helps me when I get all the answers wrong (which is pretty much always)_



_ Lori’s Cons: _

  1. _1._ _She’s a girl_
  2. _2._ _Mom doesn’t like her, says she’s too cocky_
  3. _3._ _She spends way too much time with Shane_
  4. _4._ _(Shane said he’d kill me if I ever made a move on her)_
  5. _5._ _She isn’t Daryl_



_ Daryl’s Pros: _

  1. _1._ _He’s so hot it’s insane_
  2. _2._ _Honestly, that mouth should be a sin_
  3. _3._ _He kisses me like it means something_
  4. _4._ _He’s a guy_
  5. _5._ _He swears he’ll do anything to protect me_
  6. _6._ _I feel like everything I tell him is kept in absolute confidence_
  7. _7._ _He drives a motorcycle_
  8. _8._ _Holy shit he is so friggin’ hot_
  9. _9._ _I like the way he smiles at me when he thinks I’m not looking_
  10. _10._ _I think I’ve memorized the way his heart beats after every single one our our…”hook ups”_
  11. _11._ _The fact that he’s older is such a turn on and I don’t even know why_
  12. _12._ _I think I might be falling in love with him_



_ Daryl’s Cons: _

  1. _1._ _I think he’s afraid of commitment_
  2. _2._ _He’s too attached to his family, even though they’re tearing him apart_
  3. _3._ _I don’t think he loves me back_



Xxx

Daryl doesn’t go back to school until the following Monday.  He’s nursing a fresh bruise after coming home from Spider’s house, but nobody has the balls to question him about it.  Even Michonne keeps quiet, although she does it more out of respect than anything else.

“You haven’t been ditching me to hang out with Grimes,” she points out slowly, watching him tiredly drag the books out of his locker.  “And I’ve noticed him spending a lot of time with that Lori chick.  Did you finally bang him or what?”

“Totally.”  He says this with absolutely zero enthusiasm.  Slamming his locker shut, he shoots Michonne a blank glance before shoving past her.

Michonne doesn’t miss the fact that he’s taking the long way just to avoid Lori and Rick, who are standing together at the end of the hallway with their fingers intertwined.

Rick makes eye-contact, but Michonne only shakes her head and casts him a burning glare.

Sure, she always kind of figured he and Daryl wouldn’t work out, but she never in a million years would have imagined Rick being the reason for their fall-out.

Fuck him, then.

Xxx

Rick remembers what it was like not to have anybody.  To face every day of his life with the fear of a new bruise, a new slur scrawled across his locker in a painfully familiar form of handwriting.

He likes to think he understands Daryl in that way.  Without the escape Rick was given, Daryl had to build walls to keep himself safe.  He even got a little bit of revenge, something that Rick would have personally killed for.

So he watches Daryl when he’s walking down the hallway.  Even before Daryl ever approached him, Rick was interested.  He liked the way Daryl carried himself.  Like not even God himself could strike him down.

But now, Daryl is walking the halls with his head down, eyes hidden by the fringe of his hairline.  He looks skinnier, too, although Rick doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten the lean line of his body so much that he’s imagining it.

And Rick sure as hell doesn’t miss the bruise that pops up over his left eye when Daryl finally drags his ass back to school.

It infuriates him, to know that somebody else is hurting the very person who he once figured was invincible.  He isn’t selfish enough to imagine that all of the other boy’s pain is coming singularly from the loss of Rick in his life, but he’s absolutely certain that this pain is coming from his father.

Before Lori, Daryl had told Rick about Merle’s new job in the city, something that kept him out when Daryl needed him most.  Rick knew what that meant.  It just hadn’t seemed real until that damned bruise was fresh across his flesh.

Daryl had once wanted to make Rick bleed.  Wanted to tear him apart.

But now _Daryl’s_ the one losing his way, and it was never supposed to be like this.

Xxx

Rick skips practice that afternoon, tearing through the hallways with a renewed purpose.

He has always been a quiet, shy little boy, looking up to bigger men and waiting anxiously for the day when he’d have the honor to be saved by their power.  But now, with Daryl Dixon in his life and _avoiding_ him, for fuck’s sake, he can’t help but to want to be the one doing the saving. 

Knowing that Daryl tries his best to avoid the hallways when they’re crowded, Rick waits for the after school crowd to thin before heading towards Daryl’s locker.

His heart gets caught in his throat as he gets closer.  It’s been a while since he’s been so close to the other boy.  A few days, sure, but in that time they haven’t spoken at all, and Rick hates himself for it.  Wants to cut himself in half and give whatever’s left to Daryl.

He has every intention of grabbing Daryl’s arm, but the other boy is too quick.

In a matter of seconds, Rick is being pinned to the row of lockers, back digging hard and painfully into the cold metal.  Daryl is giving him everything he’s got, and the sense of déjà vu is overwhelming.

A series of emotions pass over Daryl’s face, but Rick doesn’t have the time to figure any of them out.  Daryl settles on anger, digging his nails effortlessly into Rick’s arm.

Rick wont’ be surprised when he has to wash the blood out of his shirt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, Grimes?”  He literally _spits_ the words in Rick’s face.  It’s humiliating and Rick knows he deserves it. 

“Apologizing, you stubborn _idiot_.” 

There’s a moment of silence, thick and trembling between them.  Daryl’s eyes widen in surprise.  “ _What_ did you just call me, Friendly?”

Rick grits his teeth.  “I called you an idiot.”

They way Daryl punches Rick, you’d think he’d said something offensive about his mother. 

Daryl’s knuckles find purchase against his cheek, driving his teeth down against the soft flesh of his tongue.  Daryl lets go and he’s stumbling to the cold tile of an unwashed high school floor.  Dirt gathers under his nails.  His mouth tastes like metal.

Just as quickly, though, Daryl is falling to his knees beside the other boy, curling his hands through the familiar fabric of Rick’s t-shirt.  He can feel the boy’s heartbeat.  The way he tries to make himself seem brave is etched obviously across every irregular thump, even though he’s still years away from his days of reckless heroism. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice as steady as he can make it.  “I got scared, Daryl, and I… _I’m so fucking sorry_.”

But Daryl doesn’t want desperate apologies.  He never wanted Rick to fall apart like _this_.

“Shut your damn mouth,” he whispers, dipping forward and wiping at the saccharine drop of blood that threatens to trickle down the younger boy’s chin.  “ _And kiss me_.”  The command is rough and gritty.  Slightly terrifying. 

Rick smiles despite himself, despite the way his jaw already aches with the sudden impact of hard ground. 

And when their lips finally touch, bodies lined up like two awkward tree branches, Daryl comes to a realization that makes him hate himself.

_I’m way too attached to this kid._

Xxx

“I bet Lori couldn’t do _this_ to you.”

Rick’s head thumps back against the wall of his bedroom as Daryl sucks hard at the tip of his dick before swallowing him down completely, a feat that Rick once would have thought impossible.  ( _He_ sure as hell can’t do it, at least not _yet.)_

But Daryl still hasn’t entirely forgiven Rick, so he pulls off with a wet ‘ _pop_ ’ and squeezes the base tight between his fingers.  He laughs when Rick groans in impatient longing, fingers threading through the sweaty bed sheets beneath them.  “ _Dammit_ , Daryl…”

“ _Hmm_.”  He licks a slow, teasing stripe against Rick’s balls, smiling when a small suck earns him a high-strung keen.  “Tell me what you want, Friendly.  And maybe I’ll consider givin’ in.”

A hearty mix of pride and embarrassment has him struggling with an answer.  Dirty talk is new to him, although he’s heard plenty of it from Daryl’s end.  “ _Daryl_.”

The older redneck just squeezes the base of Rick’s cock harder, unrelenting in his need for payback.  “Not an answer, Grimes.”

“ _F-fuck_!”

“Gettin’ closer.”  Daryl rewards him with a hard, quick suck and a slow stroke of his right hand.  It’s so nice, knowing that he can get Rick to curse when he’s already admitted to hating the habit before Daryl came around.  It’s a good sign.

_A look at the person that Rick’s gonna be when Daryl’s done with him._

Rick bites down hard on his bottom lip, just barely missing the spot where the skin was already split.  He doesn’t dare complain, choosing instead to be thankful that Daryl is even here in the first place.  Here, in his room while his parents are both at work, doing unspeakably dirty things behind everyone’s backs. 

Here, with Daryl, who cares about him more than he’ll ever admit.

With a quiet growl, Daryl starts to pull his hand away, a knowing glint in his eye even as he does it.

Feeling desperate to keep Daryl’s hands on him, Rick sits up and reaches down to grab a good chunk of the older boy’s hair, refusing to let him slip away.  It’s the boldest move he’s pulled yet, but the look of pride it earns him is enough to spur him even further.

“I-I want you to…”  He trails off, worrying his lip as Daryl presses a reassuring kiss against the skin of his knee.  “ _Suck me off, **please**_.”

“ _Fuck_.”

Daryl doesn’t keep him waiting, setting right to work on the long shaft of Rick’s impressively sized cock.  He sucks and licks and nuzzles, using the hand not on Rick’s stomach to rub at the boy’s balls. 

It’s too much, had been building for far too long, and Rick is getting ready to finish before he can really grasp what’s happening.  He tries to hold it back for as long as he can because _shit_ , he’s missed this.  Missed the way Daryl worships absolutely every inch of him without even intending to.  Missed the way Daryl would cherish him in ways that Rick once would have thought himself undeserving of.

Daryl doesn’t try to slow down.  If anything, he speeds up, pulling Rick right over the edge with a shout that Daryl won’t let him stifle in the crook of his elbow. 

Being so frustratingly experienced, Daryl swallows down every last drop of what Rick has to give him, lapping eagerly at what gets left behind at the seam of his mouth.

It shouldn’t be hot but _God_ , Daryl has a habit of twisting Rick’s ideas about _everything_.

He lets Daryl stroke him through a few of the aftershocks before shoving that familiar touch away and leaning forward to kiss the other boy as hard as he can.  He chases the taste of himself on Daryl’s tongue, blushing all the way back to the roots of his hair when Daryl smiles against his innocent enthusiasm.

“Can I…uh…?”  Rick presses a tentative, quivering kiss to the underside of Daryl’s jaw.  He wishes he could be confident in all of this, and he sure is trying his hardest, but it’s nearly impossible to come off as anything more than a blushing virgin when Daryl Dixon is the one slashing him apart with every skillful swipe of that deliciously sinful tongue.

Already too nervous to fall back on dirty talk again, Rick lets Daryl knows what he wants to do by dragging his fingertips down his naked chest, popping the button on Daryl’s jeans while keeping eye-contact.   He blushes despite himself.  Daryl looks like he’s going to _devou_ r him.

Not that Rick would complain if he did.

Xxx

They’re lying on an old blanket spread across the grass, fingers intertwined and legs sprawled at awkward angles.  Daryl’s bike is blocking their view to the left.  Above them are nothing but stars.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Daryl feels at peace.

If he were a weaker man, he’d cry.

But he isn’t, so he just squeezes Rick’s hand a little tighter and bites his tongue to resist the urge to say something stupid. 

“I talked to my parents about your, _er_ , situation.”  Rick angles his head away from the endless expanse of light on dark, facing Daryl in a way that brings his nose to the older boy’s cheek.  “They said they’d help.  You’re eighteen, Daryl.  You’re free—“

“And what about Merle?”

Rick sighs, avoiding the urge to run an impatient hand through his messy curls.  (He really should get them cut, he thinks.  Except that Daryl has a pretty habit of tugging on them when he’s about to come, and Rick doesn’t know how he feels about losing that sensation.)

Rick has met Merle Dixon only once.  The meeting was short.  All Merle had to say to him was that he hated puny little fairy boys and would murder the shit out of him if he ever fucked with Daryl’s heart.  _Not that he has one_ , he had chuckled, and Rick really didn’t understand why Daryl loved him so much.

Although that was a lie, because Merle’s scars were so bad they couldn’t be hidden, whereas Daryl’s were fading and secret.  And okay, it was hard not to respect the older Dixon just a little bit.  He was thankful, at least.

But it was time for them both to move on.  Leave their father behind and work on building a life that wasn’t balancing precariously against a shifting edge.

Rick untangles their fingers and moves to rest his head on Daryl’s chest, letting the sound of that familiar heartbeat lull him into a calm sense of peace and forgiveness.  _Hope_.

“There are these two sisters, Amy and Andrea.  Friends of the family.  I used to go to school with Andrea, before I came here.”  Daryl brings a hand to his hair, rubbing circles against his scalp.  “They live on a huge ass farm.”  Daryl smiles.  “And they need help taking care of everything.  Their father just died, see, and—“

“They’re takin’ in no good rednecks runnin’ from their dick fathers?”  He manages to keep the malice and disbelief out of his voice, but Rick doesn’t miss much. 

“ _No_.”  He splays his fingers over Daryl’s heart.  “They’re looking for help from people who _want_ to help.  They’re willing to take you in and pay you for your work.  It isn’t a free ride, but it’s sure a hell of a better option than staying around here.”  He doesn’t mention that this place is far, far away from _him_.  Hundreds of miles of space between them.  He knows what Daryl needs, whether the other boy wants to admit it or not, and he won’t let himself get in the way of the younger Dixon’s happiness.

“My parents are gonna call in a favor, reassure that you get the job before someone else can snatch it up.”  He taps his fingers with the rhythm of Daryl’s heartbeat.  _Bu-bum.   Bu-bum.  Bu-bum-bu-bum._

“I’m sure you could take Merle with you.  The farm’s huge.”

Daryl sighs, and the sound vibrates soothingly through his bones.  It’s with great effort that Rick doesn’t cry.  “But it…it’s in Pennsylvania.”

Daryl’s body tenses.  Muscles locked in fear, disbelief, excitement, regret, indecision—Rick doesn’t know.

“I know it’s far away but it…” He takes a deep, shaky breath.  Remembers the bruises that decorated Daryl’s skin like paint splotches.  Black on blue on yellow.  Disgusting.  Beautiful.  Terrible.

“You have to get away from here, Daryl, and you don’t have anything better waiting for you.”

With a sharp inhalation of warm spring air, Daryl uses all of his strength to reverse their positions, knocking the air out of Rick’s lungs and pinning his wrists above his head.  Complete control.  Anger, incredulity.  Something sweet and metallic in the back of their throats.

Something that surges beneath their skin and in their chests and in their _bones_ , for Christ’s sake.

“You try’na tell me somethin’ here, Grimes?” 

But Rick can see the anxiety in Daryl’s eyes, the mistrust of a new place, a new life.

_He can’t imagine a world where someone isn’t beating the shit out of him._

“I just want you to be happy, is all.  And you can’t be happy here, not with your father doing what he does.”

Silence.

_Ba-bum._

_Ba-bum._

_Ba-bum._

_Ba._

_Bum._

Daryl dips down and kisses him.  Soft this time.  Soft and quivering and so _god damn afraid_. 

“Fuck you, Friendly.  _Fuck you_.”

And right there, in the middle of an abandoned field on nothing but a ratty old blanket, Daryl proceeds to do exactly that.

Xxx

Rick’s dad smiles warm and bright at Daryl’s sad face, and it makes something squirm uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.  He feels weak, here in this place where Rick and his family can take _care_ of Daryl. He isn’t used to it.  The closest he ever got was with Merle, and that sure as hell didn’t get him anywhere impressive.

“I think Andrea’ll love you,” Mrs. Grimes says cheerily, all red lipstick and aching sweetness.  “She’s always been a tough one.  I feel like you two are a lot alike.”

Daryl won’t ever disclose to the way he blushes so hard it actually burns a little.

Under the table, Rick grabs his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Of course,” Mr. Grimes adds, not looking up from his meal.  “We’ll have to address the issue of you dating my son without telling us first.”

Mrs. Grimes giggles.  Tries to hide it when her husband gives her a sneaky look from the corner of his eye.

Daryl stiffens in his chair.  Rick’s face turns the color of rose petals.

“Dad, I…I-we’re—“

“We’re not mad,” he reassures, smiling kindly at his son.  “We just wish you hadn’t felt the need to keep it a secret, is all.  We like Daryl, and we’ve already made it clear that we don’t care who you choose to…uh, _like a lot._    Although you _are_ only sixteen, and Daryl is legally an adult.”

His wife shoots him a warning glance.

“But that’s hardly proper dinner conversation.  Now, Daryl, will you please pass me the salt?”

With a shaking hand, Daryl passes the wooden shaker.  Mr. Grimes shoots him a wink.

Despite it all, Daryl feels safe here.

_Happy_.

Xxx

“So you love him.”

Daryl sighs impatiently.  “Wha’ddya do in your spare time, Michonne?  Read shitty romance novels?  Fuck…”

Michonne slaps his arm.  “Don’t you dare accuse me of being a _girl_.”

They both relax a little.

“I don’t know how I feel,” Daryl admits, the words coming from someplace he thought he’d never indulge with a voice.  “But I guess it don’t matter.  Merle really wants to take the job in Pennsylvania.  I won’t see him again.  Not ever.”

Michonne scoffs.  “Don’t be stupid, Dixon.”

“What the _hell_ , I’m trying to actually a have a fucking conversation and—“

“Rick’s got two years left of high school.  Don’t try and tell me you won’t come back for him.  I don’t have to read books to know how this thing goes.  Cliché as shit, though.  You have my sympathies.”  She snorts.  Daryl plops back beside her on the couch, kicking his feet up and on her lap. 

“I’ll come back for you too, ya know.”  He says this tentatively, like a child who doesn’t know whether to sing to or slay the snake. 

“I know.  Like hell I’d let you leave me behind.”

She kisses him on the cheek.  It’s the first and last time she ever will, much to Daryl’s frustration.  He kind of likes it.  Having her close like that.  It’s…nice.

Xxx

Rick adjusts Daryl’s tie, tugging skillfully on the sloppy knot.  “You’re eighteen years old, Dixon.  I woulda thought you’d know how to tie a damned tie.” 

Daryl smiles.  He still likes the way bitter curses sound so sweet on Rick’s tongue.  “Shut the hell up, Friendly.”

In response, Rick tugs a little too hard on the silk knot, grinning as Daryl punishes him with a bruising smash of their mouths.  Rick knows what this means.  Doesn’t want to think about it anymore than he has to.

Today, Daryl graduates.

Tonight, Daryl leaves for Pennsylvania.

With a soft hum of regret, Rick pulls back, pressing a firm hand against the older boy’s chest.  Merle is waiting out in the living room, making awkward conversation with Rick’s parents.  (It’s a little bit surprising just how easily the older Dixon shifted into a faux form of politeness.  It’s almost unsettling, but Rick doesn’t fight it.  If this is the only time he ever gets to see Merle Dixon in good form, then fuck if he’s complaining.)

“We gotta go,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to Daryl’s collarbone and wrapping his arms around those strong, solid shoulders.  “Can’t be late for your graduation day.”

“Can’t believe I even did it.  Survived all that time in this hell hole.”  He looks down at the blue strip of fabric hanging from his collar.  It’s itchy, uncomfortable, but Rick and his mother had absolutely forbidden him from wearing his usual t-shirt and jeans combo.  He’s already getting away with his dirty old combat boots (although Rick had helped polish them before letting Daryl anywhere near them).

His bags are sitting in the back of the Grimes’ truck.  With Merle’s help, he had finally gotten out from under his dad’s grip.  Standing in the doorway with his brother’s hand pulling at his arm, Daryl swore he would see his father’s ass in jail if he ever came near them again.  

Merle had laughed the whole ride to Rick’s house.  “Ah, my lil’ brother, finally all grown up.  Too young, but still respectable.”

Daryl punched him.

Rick sniffles.  Tries to hide it in Daryl’s jacket.

“Hey now, Friendly, don’t go all girl on me.”  But Daryl doesn’t push him away or try to pass it all off as a joke.  He just squeezes Rick tighter against him.  “You’re only sixteen, Grimes.  You got so much more waitin’ for ya—“

“Not if it isn’t with you.”  Rick gives Daryl a hard, blazing look, eyebrows furrowed in concern.  “Don’t try to chase me away, Dixon.  So help me God I’ll—“

Daryl shuts him up with a kiss, keeping it soft for the sake of Rick’s heart.  “Shut it, Grimes.  I’ll never say this again, so listen up good.  I ain’t no pussy, and I sure as hell won’t cry when we say goodbye, but as long as you’re willin’, I’ll wait for ya.”  It’s probably the gayest thing he’s ever said, but he guesses the homosexual ship sailed a real long time ago.

Besides, who knows when he’ll get to be with Rick like this again?   Might as well pour his heart out to the only person who ever gave a damn before he’s good and gone.

And then Rick surprises him with something he honest to god never saw coming.  “I love you.  _Dammit_ Daryl Dixon, I love you so fucking much…”  Fingers curling around the collar of Daryl’s jacket, Rick chokes on a sob.  “And I never…I know you don’t…”

Even though they’re already going to be at least fifteen minutes late, Daryl pulls at Rick’s wrists and walks him to his bed, where they collapse on top of each other with careless precision. 

Rick ends up with a face full of Daryl’s chest, but he won’t complain.  Just as Daryl doesn’t bother to mention the fact that Rick’s knee is pressing just _right_ against his crotch.  Now isn’t the time.

“Y’know, I only ever went after you ‘cause you were such an obvious virgin.”

Rick pretends to punch him.  Daryl just laughs.

“Now look at me.  All used up.”

_All used up._

Xxx

Merle is waiting in the truck, Daryl’s bike balanced in the rear, tied up and pulled tight. 

Rick is kissing the redneck with everything he’s got, completely uncaring of the fact that both Merle and graduates alike are all perfectly able to watch their every move.  Nobody says anything, though.  Daryl Dixon is the world’s biggest bad ass and Rick Grimes is on Shane Walsh’s shit list.  _Don’t mess with ‘em.  They’ll get their own in due time._

“Don’t go,” Rick pants, half-hearted and pointless.  He’s not a kid anymore. 

“Don’t talk like that, Friendly,” Daryl warns him, pressing his thumbs hard against the dents of Rick’s hipbones.  “And listen, don’t you dare waste your time missin’ me, got it?”  When Rick doesn’t answer, just looks down at where Daryl’s hands are pushing up under his shirt, Daryl kicks his shin.  “ _Got it_?”

“You can’t ask me to do that—“

“Sure I can.  Just like I can ask you to date a pretty little girl who makes your heart all warm and fuzzy, ‘cause there ain’t no point waitin’ around for a waste like me.”

“ _Daryl_ —“

“But that don’t mean I won’t come back for you.”  The way Rick jerks his head back, surprised and pleased, makes Daryl’s heart ache.  “And when I do, I’ll fight if I have to.  Like hell I’m lettin’ you go for good.”

They kiss then.  The last time for a while.

“I love you,” Rick whispers.  “Don’t forget that.”

The words are strangling Daryl’s lungs, wringing him dry.  “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Grimes.”

He turns to leave, but Rick snatches his wrist and keeps him rooted.  “I’ll miss you, Daryl.”

The way Rick looks at him, like he’s the sun and the moon and the stars and the _entire fucking universe_ , makes Daryl wish things were different.  Part of him wishes he’d never met Rick at all.  Most of him just doesn’t want to leave.

But he has to.  For Merle.  For Mr. and Mrs. Grimes.  For Rick.  For _himself_.

So he does.  But not before kissing Rick on the cheek and ruffling his unruly curls.  “I’ll miss you too, Rick.”

Xxx

Xxx

**Two Years Later**

“Tuck in your shirt, you look like a brat.”

Rick rolls his eyes, swatting his mom’s hands away when she tries to do it for him.  “ _Mom_.  I’m an eighteen-year-old high school graduate; I think I can tuck my own shirt in.”  He shoots her a cheeky grin, choosing to ignore the way his dad snorts and mumbles something about it all “ _getting to his head_.”

“Mind your manners, you only just graduated.  The ink on your diploma is still fresh.”

There’s some awkward shuffling around and good-natured teasing before Rick and his parents are finally ready to pose for his grandmother’s camera.  Glenn Rhee, one of his only friends since starting junior year, jumps into the image with a pair of bunny ears over Rick’s head. 

He runs off with a shout of “ _Class of 2014_ ” before getting lost in the tangle of graduates and their families.

“Goodness knows how that boy’s parents put up with him,” Mrs. Grimes sighs, smiling at her husband when he starts mocking Glenn’s awkward enthusiasm. 

Rick feels on top of the world.

It’s then that he starts hearing the hushes whispers moving through the crowd.  Groups of girls giggling.  Boys shrugging in weak attempts to seem nonchalant.

_“I can’t believe it.  He’s really back!”_

_“Oh my god, how much hotter do you think he is?”_

Rick’s focus is pulled by a sudden clap on his back.  He turns to glare at his dad, expecting his father to be standing there with his camera, but is knocked almost breathless when he turns to face none other than _Daryl Dixon_.

“Got a smoke?”

Rick jumps into his arms before he can stop himself, surprised to find that he’s actually grown quite a bit taller than the older man.

Those arms, strong and sure, feel just as safe as they did two years ago.

And before Rick can kiss him – can kiss him just like he’s been fantasizing about every night since he left – Daryl dips down and whispers something calm and sweet into Rick’s ear.

_“I love you too, Friendly.”_


End file.
